The topic for this task
was Revenge and members were asked to write 200 - 500
words. See below for some of the
responses.
A Tasty Revenge by Pat Dillon
On that quiet, spring day, among the swaying trees on the
escarpment of Lamington National Park, the old foes came eye
to eye: The carpet snake and the crow. Their enmity, firmly
entrenched, had begun many years previously.
The carpet snake had not eaten for days and hunger pangs
reminded him where a quick, tasty meal could be found. At dawn
he slithered his three-metre length up the hollow,
fire-blackened tree where, right in the top-most branches, the
crows had re-made their nest. It contained a record clutch of
five eggs.
The hen bird prodded and turned each egg with gentle
strokes from her powerful beak. When satisfied, she fluffed
out her sleek, glossy feathers, trapping beneath them air
warmed by the rays of the rising sun and settled back on her
precious brood.
Her mate had gone in search of breakfast and her eyes
scanned the escarpment for his return. A sudden movement
registered in her peripheral vision. She spun her head; saw
the flicker of a snake’s forked tongue sniffing the air
through a hole left by a fallen branch from a late winter
storm. She caught the green glint of his eyes as he came out
of the shadows, slithered towards her and prepared to strike.
Letting out a raucous squawk, ‘Ark, ark, ark,’ she rose
from her nest in a flurry of flapping feathers. ‘Ark, ark,
ark,’ she shrieked as the snake opened his mouth and swallowed
the first of her pale blue eggs. Filled with rage and the
inherent instinct of motherhood and ignoring her own safety,
she swooped at her enemy. Plunging and scraping her
razor-sharp claws into his flesh, she pecked at the reptile’s
head. Helpless as the yawning mouth devoured her clutch of
eggs.
Alerted by frantic cries her mate returned. But it was all
too late: their hated enemy had devoured the final egg. Still
they did not give up. While the male bird lunged at the
snake’s head, careful to avoid the snap of its powerful jaws,
the female launched herself from behind, full of rage at the
vile act, and sank her claws again into the olive green,
mottled flesh. At last the snake twisted round and retreated
into the hollow tree, its stomach swollen and replete, and
slithered down the darkened length onto the cool vegetation of
the forest floor.
Next morning the crows abandoned the nest and went in
search of another site. Sweeping down the face of the
escarpment, they crossed the winding road that led up to
O’Reilley’s Guest House and over a huge machine engaged in
repairs to the precipitous roadway. The previous day it had
run over an injured carpet snake as it lay on the warm, black
asphalt.
The crows swooped down and landed beside the carcass.
Peck-marks and scratches confirmed it to be their old
adversary. ‘Ark, ark, ark,’ they shrieked, ‘Ark, ark,’ and set
about their unexpected breakfast.
Word count: 488 © Pat Dillon 2006
T. K. O.
by
Liam O'Reilly
I didn’t like my boss from the first day I started to work
for him. He had this arrogant superior attitude, and he
treated me like a slave. He expected me not only to follow his
complicated instructions, but to read his mind as well. And
that was not easy. He was lazy on top of everything else and
took all the short cuts he could think of. I tried to take his
dictation down exactly as he gave it, but, when reading it
back, even an out-of-place comma or full stop was enough to
unleash his pent-up anger.
And, it was always my fault, The language he used and
directed straight at me was enough to make a crow blush, You
wouldn’t hear it in a prison full of hardened criminals.
He often called me out in the middle of the night to do
some work. He couldn’t sleep so decided he would get some work
done. No thought about me, or how I might need some time alone
to pull myself together.
I’ve been working for this fellow for about six or seven
months. Apart from the way he treats me, everything about him
annoys me. He lives alone with a cat called Fluffy. Fluffy
gets abused too from time to time, but not as often, or to the
extent that I am. I think Fluffy feels sorry for me. She often
comes and lies down beside me and keeps me company.
I believe the boss is divorced. One of the few visitors to
this place is his mother who drops little bits of information
from time to time. He’s a different person when his mother is
around. She seems to control him, and lets him know what she
thinks of him in no uncertain terms.
“It’s time you pulled yourself together, Bruce, she’s not
coming back. Get out there, try to make some friends and get a
life” .
After a visit from Mum, Fluffy and I brace ourselves for
some added abuse.
He chews gum while he works and dresses like a wharfie
without the boots. He likes well-buttered toast, so the place
around here is greasy and full of crumbs. When he works at
night he’s not a pretty sight. On warm nights, the sight of
him without a shirt is enough to bring on a major seizure.
Yesterday he finally pushed me over the edge. He couldn’t
find one of his files, so, of course, it was my fault. He
ranted and raved and called me a magician who could make
things disappear. He called me the “Harry Potter of outer
space,” just because my initials are HP. I decided I could
take no more.
I froze all my working parts and went into a self-induced
coma. From my altered state I could see Bruce was in another
of his angry outbursts. I couldn’t care less. He was now my
ex-boss. It was great to see. The look on his face was worth a
thousand Mona Lisas to me. I will never work again. I’ve taken
all his files, all his letters, all his documents and photos.
He will never see them again.
I may be a Computer, but I have my dignity.
Words: 544.
